


if you looked at me right

by lesbianryuko



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (later on - wrt yuri's backstory), Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Homoerotic Chess Games, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Rivals to Lovers, Slow Burn, Some Exploration of Trauma, Ultra Rarepair Big Bang (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), i guess??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianryuko/pseuds/lesbianryuko
Summary: Claude von Riegan likes knowing things. He’s been poking around archives and eavesdropping on church officials from the moment he arrived at Garreg Mach. So when he hears of a mysterious underground hub called Abyss, led by the equally mysterious Yuri Leclerc, he all but jumps at the chance to investigate. What starts as mutual neutrality and precarious trust soon transforms into a game of pulling each other’s secrets like teeth. Claude’s always been in it for the long haul, and Yuri never plays if he knows he can’t win, but the feelings that grow between them in dark, empty libraries and over old chess boards are more than either of them bargained for.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33
Collections: 2020 Ultra Rarepair Big Bang





	if you looked at me right

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO HELLO!!!! i'm so excited to present this fic, which was written for [the ultra rarepair big bang](https://twitter.com/ultrararepairb1) on twitter!! thank you to the fantastic birds @hausofthestars who was my partner for creating [such a wonderful piece](https://twitter.com/hausofthestars/status/1300509158228320263?s=20) for it!!! this pairing has taken over my life and i am Ready to convert everyone i know to my yuriclaude agenda >:3
> 
> fic title comes from "direct address" by lucy dacus which really reminds me of them. chapter title from "going under" by evanescence lmao

_i don’t believe in love at first sight_  
_maybe i would if you looked at me right_

Every time Claude starts to think he might be getting the hang of life at Garreg Mach, the world goes and throws another wrench into it, as if the gods themselves are watching him and have concluded—more than once, he might add—that his situation still isn’t interesting enough.

The wrench this time comes in the form of a small group of students who call themselves the Ashen Wolves. All Claude knows about them is what their characteristically taciturn professor said about them—so, not much. He knows that they hail from a place called Abyss, located beneath the monastery, and that Byleth asked them to accompany the Golden Deer on their first real mission at the Red Canyon. And that’s about it.

Of course, after the battle Claude intends to find out more. An entire hub of people living underground is certainly worth investigating, and he’s never been one to leave well enough alone.

They’re an odd bunch, though not much more so than his own Deer. There’s the large, loud man who claims to be the “Exalted” King of Grappling (or was it the “Renowned” King of Grappling?), despite none of them, save Hilda, having ever heard of him before. There’s the apathetic young woman who looks like she’s always stifling a sigh. There’s the colorful girl who spoke highly of herself indoors, but grew quiet and self-deprecating the moment she stepped into the sunlight.

And then there’s their leader, a man with a pretty face and a crude tongue. Claude can tell just by the way he speaks that Yuri works hard to maintain an air of mystery, and he only knows this because he’s spent years learning how to do the same. His smile is charming, almost inviting, but his eyes are sharp as daggers that warn against getting too close.

Claude knows this game well, and now he’s found another player.

One thing is for certain: the Wolves know how to fight. Their individual situations might be different, but they’ve all clearly struggled. They’ve all had to beg and claw and even kill to save themselves; Claude can see it in their skillful movements, their battle-hardened faces. Byleth was smart to bring them along.

Out of everyone, though, Claude finds his attention most often drawn to Yuri, to his quick swordplay and clever tactics. He knows, like Claude, how to find his opponents’ weaknesses and use them to his advantage. He heals too, which Claude wouldn’t have expected, casting spells in between kills as if to make up for the life he’s taking.

Very intriguing, indeed.

After the battle (a fairly straightforward one, though it _does_ raise a few questions), as they start to make their way back down the mountains to the monastery, Claude falls in step beside Yuri, who turns to him with a raised eyebrow. “Ah,” he says. “Claude, right? Heir to House Riegan?”

Standing next to each other, they look to be about the same height, but Yuri’s boots have a noticeable heel; in actuality, he’s probably an inch or two shorter than Claude, who is only about average height to begin with. Maybe one day he’ll tease Yuri about it, after he’s deduced whether doing so would earn him a knife in the back (one can never be too careful, especially with a guy who lives in a place called _Abyss_ ).

“That’s me,” Claude says. “Nice fighting out there.”

Yuri shrugs. “It’s nothing. You know, you weren’t so bad yourself.”

“Oh, a flatterer, are we?”

“If that’s how you see it,” Yuri replies. “Personally, I’d consider myself less a flatterer and more an opportunist. I mean it, though. I was pleasantly surprised, watching the way you handled yourself. I expected a noble like you to be a bit...squishier.”

Claude chuckles. He’s still not entirely used to being referred to as a _noble_. “Well, I didn’t exactly have your typical ‘noble’ upbringing,” he says vaguely. It only takes him a second to register that Yuri just admitted to having _watched_ him. That makes two of them, he supposes. They’d each stolen glances when the other wasn’t looking, but only now do they have the chance to actually make eye contact. In the moment their gazes meet, their masks both firmly in place, thoughts practically unreadable, something passes in between them—something like understanding, as though they’d seen one another and immediately said, _I know what you are. You’re just like me._

Claude’s not sure if it’s comforting or terrifying.

“Interesting,” Yuri hums. Whether it’s a reaction to Claude’s statement about his upbringing or simply a reaction to Claude in general, he’s not sure.

“Speaking of interesting,” Claude says, “what’s the deal with this Abyss I’ve been hearing about?” It’s not the smoothest of segues, but it’ll have to do.

“Depends on what you’ve been hearing about it,” Yuri says, seemingly unfazed. Of course he’d dodge the question.

“All I know is that it’s underground, accessible through tunnels beneath the monastery. And from what I’ve gathered, most people up here don’t like to talk about it, if they even know what it is.”

Yuri turns his gaze to the peaks of the Oghma Mountains. “Seems to me like you know just about everything you need to.”

Claude shakes his head. “I’m not so sure about that. I’m the future leader of the Alliance, remember? I could end up working with you guys someday.”

“Only with approval from the Church, most likely,” Yuri snorts.

Claude raises an eyebrow. “They really don’t want people to know you exist, do they?”

“Nope. Suits me just fine, for the most part. The less people who know about us, the less outsiders we have to deal with.”

At the word _outsiders_ , the muscles in Claude’s jaw twitch reflexively.

It’s almost imperceptible, but Yuri must still notice, because then he adds, “It’s nothing personal, really. It’s just that there’s a certain measure of trust that comes with letting people into Abyss. It doesn’t mean you can’t earn it. It’s just our way of keeping ourselves and our people safe. Most of the surfacers who come to visit Abyss these days aren’t exactly there to have tea and cookies with us.” There’s an edge of bitterness to his voice.

Claude nods. He can understand that; from the sound of it, the people of Abyss are pretty much on their own. No wonder they don’t trust outsiders, if their only experiences with them are in the form of being attacked or looted. Of course, in a better world, a place like Abyss wouldn’t even need to exist, because there would be no need for these people to hide—but this isn’t a better world. Not yet.

Yuri clears his throat. “Anyway. I’m sure you have more important things to worry about than what a ragtag group of outcasts and commoners is up to. Don’t let me catch you snooping around later, got it?”

“Got it,” Claude says as Yuri hurries to catch up to the rest of the Wolves.

He’s definitely going to snoop around later, but Yuri doesn’t need to know that.

—

It’s simple enough to just ask Byleth how to get to Abyss, but a bit harder to actually find it himself. He figures he’s less likely to get caught if he sneaks around at night, but that also means searching for tunnels in the dark. The entrances, he finds, are inconspicuous enough that they’d be easy to miss if one wasn’t actively looking for them. As he makes his way down, though, the passages slowly become more developed, with a solid stone pathway and torches hanging from the walls. They’re clearly still used; all he has to do now is follow the signs of human habitation.

Several things signal to him that he’s reached his destination. First, there’s the faint din of many people talking, similar to what would be found in a market, that increases in volume the deeper he goes. Then, there’s the windows with metal grates on one wall; if he peers through the bars, he can faintly see some structures made of wood and stone, silhouetted by yellow light. Finally, when he turns the last corner, he’s greeted (or perhaps “interrogated” would be a better word) by a man who calls himself the Abysskeeper, apparently guarding the entrance to Abyss. He’s made it.

The first thing Claude notices, directly to his right, is a library shrouded in shadow, and it takes everything in him to not immediately dive into its collection. He knows himself. Once he gets started, he’ll never leave, and he’d like to see the rest of the place first.

When Claude heard about people living underground, he pictured a few small groups crawling through basic dirt tunnels and eating whatever scraps of food they could salvage. He didn’t expect to find a bustling marketplace, an inn with a fully-stocked bar, and entire _buildings_ beneath the monastery. It looks more to him like one of the poorer sections of any large city, complete with dark alleyways, stray animals, and piles of debris.

Save for the occasional rogue or small gang, most of the people living in Abyss are relatively defenseless civilians—orphans, unlucky merchants, the poor, the elderly, the disabled. For them, Claude quickly realizes, Abyss is a safe haven where they won’t be bothered by soldiers, bandits, mercenaries, or the Church. If Yuri really is its leader, then he must put a lot of work into providing for these people. It’s certainly respectable to want to help those whose lives are filled with hardship.

Still, there’s something disturbing about the whole place, when he really thinks about it. The Church already takes in orphans and refugees and gives them somewhere in the monastery to stay. Why wouldn’t they take in some of these Abyssians? Why have they all been shunned, banned even from being talked about? Why does the Church hide this place? What goes _on_ down here?

Unfortunately, none of the Ashen Wolves are to be found, so he can’t ask them any questions. Their makeshift classroom is empty; they’re probably asleep in their quarters by now. Claude makes conversation with a few locals, but none of them give him much information, so once he’s familiarized himself with Abyss’s layout, he heads back up the stairs and makes for the library. He’s got some reading to do.

—

“Hey, boss,” an Abyssian says as Yuri walks through Burrow Street the next morning, “thought I’d let you know, there was a guy here late last night, askin’ questions about Abyss.”

Yuri stops in his tracks and whirls around to look at the man. “What? Who?”

The man wrings his hands. “Didn’t catch his name. I dunno if he was dangerous or nothin’, but he was wearin’ an Officers Academy uniform with a yellow cape.” He gestures to the right side of his face. “And he had a, uh, braid on one side?”

_Claude._

Yuri holds a hand up. “Say no more. I know who he is.” Without another word, he turns on his heel and makes his way to the stairs. If Claude is still here, there’s only one place he could be.

“Wait, boss!” the man calls. “So is he dangerous to us or not?”

Yuri pauses and shoots a glance over his shoulder. With a shrug, he says, “Jury’s still out on that one, I’m afraid.”

 _Claude von Riegan._ What’s his deal, anyway? Yuri’s heard the rumors, mostly from Balthus, about the next sovereign duke, who showed up out of nowhere claiming to be from an “offshoot” of House Riegan. There’s certainly more to that story. The real question, though, is why would a guy like that take such an interest in Abyss? What sort of game is he playing? And more importantly, is it a game Yuri can win?

When he swings open the door to the Abyss library, Yuri spots his culprit immediately, sitting slumped over the desk near one of the ledges on the main floor. Claude’s head rests in his arms; around him, several books are open, and there are even more in stacks on the desk and floor, as well as a nearly burnt-out candle.

Yuri takes a few steps closer and crosses his arms over his chest. He can hear a faint snoring sound coming from Claude, can see his chest slowly rising and falling. Yuri almost feels bad for interrupting— _almost._

He gives a few kicks to the nearest chair leg. Luckily, it’s enough to make Claude flinch and lift up his head. With a groan, he turns around in his chair to face the perpetrator of this rude awakening.

“Yuri,” he says, resting his arms against the back of the chair. “I was having a really good dream, you know.”

“I thought I told you not to come poking around down here.”

“No, you told me not to let you _catch_ me poking around down here.”

Yuri narrows his eyes. It’s the sort of answer he’d respect if he weren’t already in a sour mood due to an issue with his gang the night prior. “Well, I caught you, so either way, you didn’t listen. Next time, don’t fall asleep while you’re snooping.”

Claude’s mouth curls up into a smirk. “So you acknowledge that there _will_ be a next time.”

Why’s he so damn chipper, anyway? Is he really that excited at the prospect of returning to Abyss? Maybe he’s just a morning person.

Yuri sighs and covers his face with his hand. “Look, we don’t get a lot of tourists, so let me ask you this: what are you doing down here? What do you want with us?”

“Nothing,” Claude says. “I was just fulfilling my curiosity, that’s all. I’d like to learn as much as I can while I’m at Garreg Mach. And, well, how could I _not_ be curious upon hearing that there’s a bunch of people living under the ground beneath the monastery?” He shakes his head in apparent awe. “Of course I wanted to see what that was all about. And then I found this library, filled to the brim with books banned by the Church, and the rest is history.”

He sounds sincere, and Yuri supposes the existence of Abyss _would_ pique most people’s interest—that’s why Byleth ventured down here, after all—but he’s still reluctant to completely place his trust in this mysterious young man who appeared in Fódlan seemingly out of thin air.

“Look, I get it,” Claude continues, likely sensing his hesitation. “You don’t trust outsiders? Believe me, you’re not the only ones. But I explored all of Abyss last night, and I have nothing but respect for it. I have no reason to want anything bad to happen to you guys, and I’m certainly not gonna tip off the Church to whatever you do down here. All I ask is that you let me continue to visit.”

“It’s dangerous down here,” Yuri warns. He’s mostly just looking for an excuse at this point, but it’s also true. “Especially if you’re traveling alone, and _especially_ for a high-profile noble like yourself. I know you said you weren’t brought up that way, but you’ve got a hell of a status now. Bandits will salivate whenever you walk by.”

“I’m aware,” Claude says, leaning back against the desk. “The Abysskeeper already gave me that whole spiel. But Yuri, you’ve _seen_ me in battle. You know I can handle myself. Believe it or not, I spent years keeping my head low and learning how to protect myself.” His eyes twinkle. “You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about me.”

Yuri sighs again. Losing an argument is _not_ how he wanted to start his day, but Claude makes a good case, unfortunately. Besides, even if Yuri forbade him from visiting Abyss, something tells him that Claude would continue to sneak down here anyway.

“You know what? Fine,” he says. “You have your wish. As long as you don’t go around announcing our secrets to the whole world, I won’t stop you from frequenting Abyss. Just remember that I won’t hesitate to cut you down if you threaten any of my people. Understood?”

“Loud and clear,” Claude says, standing up from the desk. He quirks an eyebrow. “Would you _really_ kill the next sovereign duke, though? You’d have a whole country at your doorstep within a week, and I know you wouldn’t want to endanger your people like that.”

He’s a smart one; Yuri will give him that.

“Bold of you to assume they’d be able to trace it back to me,” he replies with a razor-sharp half-smile. “Give me enough of a reason, and I can kill you and make it look like an accident.”

Claude doesn’t even blink. “I’ll make sure not to give you a reason, then. You can count on that.”

Yuri chuckles. “I should hope so.”

Suddenly, Claude seems to remember something and grabs a book from one of the piles on the desk. “Hey,” he says, “before I go…” He presses the book into Yuri’s hands. “Have you ever read this? It’s a gem, really. Very...descriptive. Let me know what you think.” Then, with a smirk and a wink, he saunters out the door, his braid swinging gently back and forth as he walks.

Yuri glances down at the book. The cover image has mostly worn away, but he can just make out the title: _The Throes of Passion._ Flipping through the pages confirms his suspicions: it’s a trashy erotic romance novel, and Claude just used it to flirt with him.

Despite himself, Yuri laughs. “So, he wants to play, does he?” he murmurs under his breath. “Very well, Claude von Riegan. Challenge accepted.”

—

For the next month or so, Claude spends much of his free time in either the Garreg Mach library or the Abyss library, poring over Crest research and historical accounts of famous Fódlan battles and writing down any particularly interesting details in a little notebook. Some of the information in the Abyss library contradicts the Church-approved version, but as for which source is more reliable, he sometimes can’t quite tell.

One of the most stunning things he finds is a log detailing advanced technology banned by the archbishop. Claude had learned very quickly of the Church’s grip on Fódlan and its citizens, but this is probably the most damning evidence he’s found so far of just how powerful they are—and just how much they want to keep the people firmly under their yoke.

He gets a firsthand look at how the Church delivers “divine punishment” when they go to confront Lord Lonato. It’s the first time he gets to see a Hero’s Relic in action, and to his surprise, the accounts he’s read of their power are no exaggeration. Catherine’s Thunderbrand is a force to be reckoned with, and with it she acts as Rhea’s executioner.

A few nights after the battle, Claude finds himself visiting the Abyss library again. After setting yet another stack of books on the desk, he grabs the one on top and starts reading.

He only gets about ten pages in when he hears whispering just outside the library. Normally he’d leave it alone—people whisper all the time down here about things that aren’t particularly relevant—but then he hears his name.

With narrowed eyes, Claude carefully lifts himself up from his chair and tiptoes over to the closed door, then presses his ear against it.

“I’m tellin’ ya, he ain’t the one leavin’ feathers everywhere,” a man says. “Yuri said so himself. It’s them Cobra bastards. That’s why we’re meetin’ ‘em tonight.”

“Then why is it that as soon as he started coming down here, those bodies started piling up on the surface?” another man says. “He wants us dead, and he’s using his connections with the Church to make it happen. I heard he’s some sorta schemer. I bet the Cobras are just scapegoats.”

_What the hell are they talking about?_

“Yuri _saw_ one of the Cobras leavin’ a feather, dumbass,” the first man says. “The kid’s got nothin’ to do with this.”

“They could be working together, then. You never know.”

The first man snorts. “You’re pullin’ conspiracy theories outta yer ass. Admit it. You’re just lookin’ for an excuse to get rid of him.”

“Fine. Maybe I am. I just...don’t like the way he looks, okay? He’s suspicious. He always looks like he’s up to something.”

“So does Yuri.”

“Yeah, but Yuri’s one of us.”

Their voices fade as they walk away, their footsteps echoing down the hall. Once he’s certain that they’re gone, Claude opens the door and steps outside.

The Abysskeeper, standing nearby, is pretending to be extremely interested in the tiles on the ceiling. “Hey,” Claude calls. “What was that all about?”

The Abysskeeper shifts his feet. “You heard all that, huh?” he says sheepishly. He scratches the back of his head. “Frankly, I’m not sure I should be telling you.”

“Oh, come on,” Claude groans. “You know I’m just gonna keep bugging you or snooping around until I figure it out. Besides, those guys were talking about _me_. I think I deserve to know why, especially if it’s about something I didn’t do.”

The Abysskeeper sighs. “Alright, fine. But if you speak about this to anyone outside Abyss, you’re toast, got it?”

“Got it,” Claude says with a roll of his eyes. He’s already heard this spiel more than once. How hard is it to understand? He doesn’t want to spread their secrets; he just wants to _know_ them.

“Well,” the Abysskeeper says, “long story short, for about a month now there have been dead civilians turning up on the surface near the monastery. Murdered. And every single one has had a mockingbird feather with it, clipped to the person’s clothes or in between their fingers or whatnot.”

Claude frowns. “What’s the significance of that?”

The Abysskeeper lowers his voice. “Have you ever heard of the Savage Mockingbird?”

Claude shakes his head. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

The Abysskeeper raises an eyebrow. “Well, that’s Yuri. Though not everyone knows that. Many established members of the nobility have heard of his penchant for blackmail and other such criminal activities—that is, if they haven’t already experienced it themselves. Thing is, Yuri’s not responsible for these murders. He’d never harm civilians on purpose, and he’d never be so obvious as to leave some kind of signature behind. Someone’s trying to pin them on him—on _us_ —likely in the hopes that the Church will come and purge us as punishment. Yesterday, Yuri traced them back to a gang called the Cobras, so he and his pals are planning on confronting them tonight.” He glances down the hall in the direction the two men went. “Apparently some believe you’re involved somehow, but I don’t think the sentiment is widespread. For what it’s worth, _I_ don’t think you’re involved.”

Claude’s head is spinning, but he thanks the Abysskeeper for the information and heads down the stairs to find Yuri.

The door to the men’s quarters is open. Stepping inside, Claude finds Yuri sitting at a desk and applying eyeshadow in the mirror. Without looking at him, Yuri says, “Problem, Claudester?”

Claude snorts. “ _Claudester_?”

“That’s what Hapi calls you. She has nicknames for everybody.” He sets his makeup brush down and turns in his chair. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah.” Claude pats the bow on his back. “I’d like to join you and your gang tonight.”

Yuri’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “You _what_?”

“I heard it all from the Abysskeeper,” Claude explains, leaning against the doorframe. “And just before that, I overheard some guys talking about me. One of them thinks I’m involved in the whole thing, that I’m working with the Cobras or something. I’d like to help you out. I think it’d help clear my name.” He winks. “I’ve been wanting to see the kind of dirty work you do anyway.”

Yuri shakes his head. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s a private matter, and I still don’t know you all that well. Besides, I don’t think I need to tell you again how much danger you’d be putting yourself in.”

Claude folds his arms over his chest. “You’ll also be in danger, but you don’t seem so concerned about that.”

Yuri’s eyes flicker with something indecipherable. “That’s because, unlike you, I have experience with the underground. A lot of it.”

Claude rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s one extra person. I could act as backup—you know, snipe your enemies from the shadows. I’ve hardly seen any other archers down here.”

“You just don’t give up, do you?” Yuri says, but it’s clear that he’s wearing down. “Look, I don’t have time to argue. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a job to do. I’m supposed to be meeting up with some of my gang right about now. If you really want to come along, be my guest. For tonight, I’m going to choose to trust you.”

“Choose?” That’s an interesting word to use.

Yuri nods. “That’s right. Trust is a choice, you see, and I’ve chosen to put my trust in you—for now, at least. Don’t make me regret it.”

Claude’s never thought about it that way. He’s always seen trust as something that develops over time, not an active choice a person makes.

Yuri stands up and heads for the doorway. As he brushes past Claude, he mutters, “First the professor, now you, huh?”

Claude turns to follow him out, but not before he glimpses a book on one of the beds. He recognizes it immediately— _The Throes of Passion_ —and smirks. So he’s gotten to his crass companion after all, then.

“What do you mean?” he calls as he hurries to catch up with Yuri.

“Byleth insisted on accompanying me on a similar mission about a month ago,” Yuri says without slowing down. “You two are too curious for your own good.”

Claude chuckles. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The rest of the group is gathered right at the edge of the bridge on the very end of Burrow Street. There are about seven people—far from the full might of Yuri’s gang, he says, but enough to get the job done. Beyond the bridge lies an unidentified stone structure, shrouded in darkness and surrounded on all sides by rocky cave walls.

“Sorry for the delay,” Yuri says, and the others all stop talking to listen to him. “We can leave now.”

“Hey, boss?” says one of the rogues—Claude recognizes his voice as belonging to the man who disparaged him earlier. “You know I trust your decisions, but what is _he_ doing here?” He gestures in Claude’s direction.

Claude turns to Yuri with a frown that he hopes accurately communicates _I told you so._

“Claude has generously offered us his services this evening,” Yuri says smoothly, his lips curled into a half-smile. “He’ll act as our sniper. If anyone has any objections, you can take it up with me.”

Predictably, no one says anything.

“That’s what I thought,” Yuri says as he makes his way across the bridge. “Let’s move.”

As they head down the dimly-lit path, Claude once again finds himself walking side-by-side with Yuri. “So,” he says, “how’d you figure out it was the Cobras who were doing this?”

“I caught one of them in the act,” Yuri replies. “He’d just killed a young woman and was in the process of leaving a feather behind. I cornered him and told him to let his leader know they’d been found out, or I’d track him down and kill him myself. Before he left, I saw the cobra tattoo on his neck.”

“So I’m assuming all the members of this Cobra gang have cobra tattoos to identify them?”

“Bingo,” Yuri says. “A lot of gangs do it. The gang Byleth and I confronted the other week does the same thing, but with scorpion tattoos.”

Claude glances over his shoulder at the other gang members. A few of them have tattoos, but none of them match, and there are some that don’t seem to have any ink at all. “So,” he says, “does your gang do anything like that? It doesn’t look like you have any tattoos.”

Yuri stops in his tracks for the briefest of moments, brief enough that he’s able to pass it off as having simply stumbled on a loose stone. Claude sees it, though; he must have hit a sore spot.

His gaze trails up and down Yuri’s body, searching for any sign of a tattoo, noting his lithe frame and narrow hips. Yuri’s eyes meet his, and a moment of recognition passes between them.

“Oh, Claude,” Yuri says with a playful smirk, any signs of unease now gone, “I know I’m irresistible, but you need to contain yourself.”

Claude can feel his cheeks heating up, and he looks away. He can dish out the charm without a problem, but he’s never had anyone use the same tactics on him. So what if his eyes lingered a little longer on Yuri’s hips, anyway?

“Anyway,” Yuri adds, “the answer is no. I don’t want to give our enemies an easy way to recognize us. Unlike some, I don’t do this for the glory; I do it to survive and to help my people, and it certainly doesn’t do any good to put a target on our backs.”

Judging by his initial reaction to the question, Claude would guess that Yuri probably isn’t telling him everything, but he doesn’t push the issue. There are more important things to worry about right now.

When they start to get close, Yuri gives Claude the signal to slip into the shadows, trailing the rest of the gang as they enter the odd structure he saw in the distance earlier. It’s made up of only one large, open area with high ceilings and giant statues staggered around the room. It looks like some sort of arena. Claude darts behind the raised base of one of the statues and watches from his vantage point as a squad of about ten tough-looking thugs with matching cobra tattoos emerges from the other side of the arena and saunters toward Yuri’s group.

“So you’ve been trying to frame us for murder,” Yuri says, crossing his arms over his chest.

The man in front, presumably the leader, chuckles darkly. “Suppose it’s too late to deny it, huh?”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes,” Yuri says. “I don’t take these kinds of things lightly. You were trying to get us purged. Probably so you could swoop in and take Abyss for yourselves. But you knew your gang wasn’t strong enough to fight mine head-on, so you hoped the Church would do the job for you. Am I right?”

“Well, well, aren’t you a clever little kitten?” the Cobra leader sneers. “Alright, you caught me. What are you gonna do about it, punk?”

From behind the statue, Claude nocks an arrow and takes aim.

Yuri says, “This.”

And Claude lets it fly.

At the same time, Yuri brandishes his sword and leaps toward the leader. The man blocks the blow with his axe just as Claude’s arrow pierces his shoulder.

In a flash, the arena explodes into a battlefield. Claude jumps on top of the base of the statue and starts shooting from above. Though they can be difficult to see from afar, the cobra tattoos make it a lot easier for him to tell friend from foe. Yuri’s right about them being like targets.

Most of the Cobras are melee fighters, but one of them breaks away from the thick of battle to toss his hand axe at Claude, who jumps deftly out of the way as it flies past, then launches an arrow into the man’s chest.

In the center of it all, Yuri and the Cobra leader lunge and parry, slash and swing. The leader has muscle and raw strength on his side, but Yuri is _fast_ , dodging every attack and delivering one of his own before his opponent can recover. Before long, Yuri’s pushing him back, back, back, several cuts on his torso bleeding from Yuri’s sword.

Claude releases another arrow, and it lands just shy of the leader’s heart. He flinches, and in that moment, Yuri strikes, knocking him off balance and pushing him to the floor. Before he can pull himself back up, Yuri steps on his chest and forces him to stare down his blood-soaked blade.

Almost in unison, everyone else stops fighting and turns to watch the scene taking place. Claude jumps down from the statue to get a closer look, and they all wait for the outcome with bated breath.

Yuri leans in close, his sword only inches from the Cobra’s throat. “Not laughing now, are ya?” he hisses.

The man rapidly shakes his head.

“You’re a nuisance and a coward,” Yuri says, “and the only reason you’re not dead right now is because I’m too busy to deal with the repercussions. If you value your life at all, you and your goons will slither back into the hole you came from, because I _won’t_ be so merciful next time.”

He steps off of the leader’s body, and everyone watches as the man scrambles to his feet and gestures for his underlings to follow him out. Bloody and limping, the Cobras retreat, and then Yuri sheathes his sword and turns back to the group.

“Well,” he says curtly, “that’s settled, then.”

“Hey, boss,” a woman says grimly, pointing across the room, “you might want to take a look at this.”

Following the direction of the woman’s finger, Claude and Yuri see it at the same time: a body.

“Allister!” Yuri says, and rushes over to the motionless figure. Claude and the rest of the gang trail behind.

Yuri falls to his knees next to the body, a young man probably around the same age as Claude. He has several injuries, but by far the most severe is a deep slash across his throat. The blood spilling from the wound puddles on the ground, and there’s even some blood dripping out the sides of his mouth. He doesn’t look like he’s breathing.

Yuri gets to work immediately, the white magic flowing bright and warm from his fingers, and while it quickly sews the gash shut, it does nothing to restore life to the boy’s lungs. Behind him, a man says, “One of them swordsmen got him. I think he was dead as soon as he hit the floor. Poor lad.”

Claude can only see the back of Yuri’s head, but he notices the way his shoulders slump, and he can hear the deep breath that rattles around in his chest before he speaks.

“You guys go,” he says solemnly. “I’ll catch up with you. But I’d better give him some sort of burial first.”

Reluctantly, the rest of the gang departs, but Claude stays behind, staring in silence at the somber scene in front of him. Without looking up, Yuri says, “That includes you, Claude.”

When Claude doesn’t say anything, Yuri sighs. “I was going to bring someone else instead of him,” he admits. “Someone older, more experienced. But he insisted.” He looks up at Claude and sets his mouth into a hard, thin line. “Do you understand now why I didn’t want you to come along?”

“I—” Claude says, then pauses. “How well did you know him?”

“Not very,” Yuri replies. “I only met him a few months ago. But it doesn’t matter. He was a good person. He deserved better than this. And it’s my fault he’s dead.”

Claude opens his mouth to tell him that it’s not, but Yuri holds up a hand. “Save it. Just go.” His gaze softens, just slightly. “Your assistance was appreciated. Really. But your job here is done.”

He doesn’t say it, but Claude can hear what he really wants to tell him: _Just leave me alone._

Claude’s never been good at doing what he’s told, but tonight, he’s willing to make an exception.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “See you later.”

It’s all he can do just to turn around and leave his companion grieving on the floor.

This isn’t quite what he expected when he first ventured down to Abyss. He’s in deep—he can feel it—but he supposes that’s what he gets for always pushing, always prodding. He’s caught a glimpse of the underworld, of Yuri’s world, and he can’t go back from that, even if he wanted to.

One thing is for certain: whatever game they’re playing, Claude’s in it for the long haul now.


End file.
